


Precious Love

by Evanna_Adams



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Honestly I'm tired and I wanted to write a particular scene that spawned this, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, I mean the last scene, M/M, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Superfamily, Superfamily (Marvel), Superhusbands, Superhusbands (Marvel), i hate everything, i wrote this in two hours, unabashed fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 09:17:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19850140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evanna_Adams/pseuds/Evanna_Adams
Summary: Peter Parker was no ordinary child. He had been five when his birth parents had passed away. Or his birth mother anyway. You see, Mary Parker – when she had been Mary Fitzpatrick – had a great night with a gorgeous, rich, famous engineer. She never considered finding love but then Richard Parker had been transferred to her office and they had hit it off almost instantly.Or how Peter Parker finds his way to the Avengers Tower.





	Precious Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cachette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cachette/gifts).



> Title is from the song by James Morrison. Please listen to it.
> 
> @Cachette You never asked for this but guess now it's yours. Sorry, no takesie-backsies. Also, it's 3.30 AM and I'm delirious.

Peter Parker was no ordinary child. He had been five when his birth parents had passed away. Or his birth mother anyway. You see, Mary Parker – when she had been Mary Fitzpatrick – had a great night with a gorgeous, rich, famous engineer. She never considered finding love but then Richard Parker had been transferred to her office and they had hit it off almost instantly.

Mary Fitzpatrick found out she was pregnant three months into their relationship. Of course, she assumed he was Richard’s and what Mary had expected to draw them apart had drawn them closer still. They were in love. Richard proposed and Mary said yes.

Peter Parker was born – a beautiful baby boy with big brown eyes that beseeched the holder to adore him, and a mane of dark hair that could never be tamed. He was a sweet baby; barely ever created a fuss and was loved by both parents. They didn’t even stop to consider that Peter wasn’t his father’s. They never needed to.

Then they had to perform a blood test for Peter’s school admissions. An AB negative blood type was already rare but with two B positive parents, it seemed close to impossible. Of course, Richard studied genomes so he understood that there could be recessive genes. But this was beyond odd. A genetic test confirmed that Peter wasn’t Richard’s biological son.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Mary had said, chagrined.

“He’s still my son, Mary,” Richard had consoled, shaken but not giving up.

“Only yours,” Mary had promised, kissing him.

Richard just smiled and continued his tradition of tucking Peter into bed with a story and a hug. He loved Peter more than anything in the world. How could genetics change that? How could genetics take away his son?

Of course, Mary found out that day that Peter was actually Tony Stark’s son, but she remained quiet till the night that changed everything. They had to go. They had to leave Peter with Ben and May. And there was no time left. Mary couldn’t hide it anymore.

“If anything happens to us,” she confessed to May in the corner of her kitchen, a glass of water clutched in her whitened grasp. She was coming to terms with the possibility of how in danger they were. “If anything happens to us, May, tell Peter about his real father. _Please_. I need him to know.”

May stood tall and stoic. “What do I say?”

“Tony Stark is his father.”

May swallowed thickly but nodded. “Of course. But you will tell him yourself. You will come back.”

Mary hugged her tight and nodded, already feeling the false promises turn to ash in her mouth. And they were gone.

And they were gone.

~*~

Steve Rogers couldn’t believe how far they had come.

After the battle in New York, things had settled to domesticity that he couldn’t understand. He had been grappling with a lot back then, in those first few years of his introduction into the new century. The Stark Tower had been a welcome change of pace and being together with the others had settled into a friendship.

The more time he spent around his smart-mouthed teammates, the more time he spent making them realize that he was just as good at pulling their legs, if not better. What had started as a prank war between Clint and Tony had devolved into a full-blown amicable war where you couldn’t trust anyone. The kitchen was the only place that was off-limits for any such activity.

Somehow, he and Tony, and Clint and Natasha had broken into two teams trying to one-up each other. He gathered just how good of a team Tony and he made. The more their little war intensified, the more time he spent in the lab. Tony was the closest thing he had to a best friend in this new world. He’d make fun of Steve for not knowing things but in the same breath teach him about a lot more than he asked for. Tony was kind, first and foremost, no matter how much he hid it. It had been clear when he had invited them into his house, and it was even more apparent now.

Upgrades to their armour and weapons came regularly, and Tony would shrug it off as routine but everyone in the team had their way of gratitude. Natasha would kiss Tony’s cheek, and call him a sweet Russian nickname that made Tony smile. Clint would run off immediately to try out the new gear. Bruce would make Tony good food, and Thor would laugh uproariously, praising Tony loudly. Sometimes he would also bring Asgardian mead to share.

Steve, though, wasn’t sure how he could repay Tony. What did he have to give him? So, he started leaving doodles and sketches all over the workshop for Tony. He didn’t respond but Steve would always find them pinned up in the oddest places around the workshop. The workshop was Tony’s home, where his heart lived and within that were pieces of Steve. This continued for months till Steve broke down and decided that the only way he could be grateful was to push Tony against a wall and kiss him silly.

“Cap,” Tony had murmured, his lips kiss-bitten, eyes wild and breath fast.

“Tony,” was all he could say before he kissed him again.

A month of hesitant, awkward courting and wooing later, Tony had dragged Steve into his bed unable to take the distance any longer. Another two months and they whispered the words of adoration against each other’s skin. Five months and some gentle nudging from Natasha and Rhodey, they were saying it loudly to each other.

Then, Tony was gone to Miami to deal with some Stark Industries problems with Killian and Steve was busy scouring the streets for his best friend. They met in the middle, proclaiming their love for each other with promises they didn’t want to say aloud.

It was over, finally. Finally, they could be together. Bucky was in cryo for a while at Wakanda but recovering fast. Sam had joined them in the Avengers tower. Sooner than expected, Bucky returned much to the delight of Steve and oddly, Sam. Honestly, who’d have thought?

With things settling, Tony went down on one knee in front of Steve for innocent purposes like a marriage proposal and Steve would never admit but he cried his affirmation into Tony’s shoulder. He was so in love with the man. Their rings had _Winghead_ , and _Shellhead_ inscribed inside them, glinting golden and platinum. The ceremony was intimate and beautiful.

Rhodey and Pepper stood beside Tony and Bucky gave Steve away, standing beside him as his best man too. Clint and Happy teared up at the vows and they were married. A month travelling the world and Steve and Tony were back at the tower.

A few weeks later, after they returned from a mission, there was a knock on the figurative door.

“Sir, there is someone insistent on seeing you,” Jarvis informed Tony in his workshop.

Tony set down the soldering iron carefully. “Who is it, J?”

“He claims to be your son.”

“What the fuck,” Tony cried out, reliving his life and then jolting himself out of it. “What? Who? _What?_ ”

“He appears to be five, sir. He is here with his guardian who I understand is his aunt.”

“Jarvis, is it true?” he asked quietly, a few moments later.

“It appears so, sir. They have papers.”

A number of people had claimed to be Tony’s children, but it had never reached Tony because either Pepper fielded them, or Jarvis called them out on the lies. But if neither of them had kept this child away, it could only mean one thing.

“Send him up, J. And please call Steve to the main area.”

“Working on it, sir.”

Tony wound his way to the common area, fidgeting as he retrieved a bottle of water.

“Tony,” Steve murmured, affectionately, kissing his cheek. “Jarvis said you needed me.”

“This is going to be weird but-“

The elevator doors opened and in walked a tiny version of Tony. A middle-aged woman was holding his hand as she led him inside and stopped a few feet away from them, uncertainly.

“I’m May Parker,” she started. “I’m Mary’s sister-in-law. Mary Fitzpatrick. She… Uh. Anyway, this is Peter. Parker. Peter Parker. He’s your son.”

Steve was looking at him; Tony knew that, but he just had eyes for the little boy. His eyes were red-rimmed as though he had been crying. A fat tear rolled down his cheek to confirm that he had been.

“I’m sorry,” May murmured, kneeling to wiped at Peter’s face gently. She kissed his forehead. “It’s been a tough couple of days. Mary and Richard’s flight crashed and then Ben had a heart attack.”

Tony’s heart clenched and all he wanted to do was hold the boy close even though they didn’t know each other from Adam. “I’m so sorry. Is there any way I can help you?” He winced, realizing how harsh that must sound. “I mean… I just mean-“

“He means we’re grateful you told us about Peter,” Steve added, copying May’s pose and holding a hand out to Peter. “We are pleased to meet him and we are very sorry for your loss.”

Tony sighed internally.

Peter stared at Steve with large eyes and then ran the rest of the way into his arms, burying his face in Steve’s neck. Tony’s hand shook. How was he supposed to react to this?

“Peter, sweetheart, would you like to see my shield?” Steve queried, voice soft as he picked Peter up in his arms.

Peter nodded wordlessly into Steve’s shoulder.

Steve kissed Tony’s cheek before walking away.

They fell quiet after Steve and Peter were gone.

“I really am glad to meet him,” Tony promised. “But I’m at a loss. What is it that you are looking for? May, please be honest.”

May looked harder now that her nephew was gone. She had roughened edges. It wasn’t only Peter who had lost so much so quickly. “Do you remember Mary?”

“Of course, I do,” he responded. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. His drug and alcohol addled brain rarely remembered his conquests, but he remembered Mary clear as day. She was one of the few who hadn’t been impressed with his money to fall into bed with him. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Because he was Richard’s son in every sense that mattered.”

“Then, why now?”

“Because I’m old and frail. I lost my closest family. I lost my Ben. I’m not in the right mind to raise that child. He needs a family. He needs a loving parent.”

“Why me?”

“Honestly, if this was a few years ago, I would take my bets with an orphanage over you. Not that I would ever leave that sweet boy. But you… Now. You’re married. You’re settled.”

Tony’s face crumpled. “I’m not parent material.”

“Then learn to be.”

“He can be around as much as he wants but the second, he chooses that he wants to be with you more than me, you have to accept that.”

“He’s my boy. He’s my Peter. He needs a parent and I’m asking for help but don’t mistake this for a lack of love for him. I love him more than life. I want the best for him.”

“I believe you, May.” He took her hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss, May.”

Tears marred her features, but she remained silent.

“You can live here too. I have the space. You can live with him.”

May shook her head. “I’ll be around, but I need to be with Ben. It’s my home. It’s where my life is.”

“Can I do anything – anything for you? Money, safety? Anything?” he asked, suddenly desperate.

She shook her head. “Just take care of that boy.”

Steve and Tony left May to explain the arrangements to Peter. The boy nodded and cried in her arms for hours before he finally let her go. Within a few days, Peter’s things were moved into the Tower. Steve helped him set up a room beside Tony and his, so, he could be close to them always.

They let him have whatever he wanted – they spoiled him as much as possible. He visited May every day after school. Initially, he remained closed off from Tony and from the rest of the Avengers, except Bruce. He tended to follow Bruce around his lab when he had the time. Bruce loved his little lab partner, letting him conduct his own experiments.

Tony wouldn’t admit it, but he was relieved. He wasn’t sure he could submit to the horrors of parenting. It was a fact that Howard was a bad parent and he was his son. He would make the same mistakes, obviously.

Steve reminded him with little messages, sometimes discreet and other times overt, that he was nothing like Howard. He would make sure to spend time with Peter, inviting him to dinner with the team and not pushing him into engaging in conversation. He would ask Peter to join every activity but never pushed for an affirmation. Tony was convinced that Steve was the only parent Peter needed.

A few months passed with a distance between Peter and Tony and then a miracle happened. Peter started talking. The little boy talked a lot. After time with May, he would come back and repeat stories from school with added comments from May. He was adorable and Tony realized that he loved him. It was epiphany but really, he knew he had loved the boy since the first time he saw him.

Peter would tell his stories to Steve, to Bruce in his lab, and one day he wound his way down to Tony with a homework problem and spent hours in the lab with Dum-E and U, chattering all the way. Tony asked Jarvis to turn down the music and responded appropriately to everything Peter told him.

It became their little tradition. Time with May, Steve, Bruce and then the rest of the day with Tony while he completed his homework. The weekends were reserved for fun with Clint, Sam, Bucky, and Natasha in the gym till he was tired. Thor showed up sometimes and let Peter dangle from his arms, prattling about something to which Thor would answer with something just as absurd. Pepper and Happy would accompany him to and fro from school. Happy always had candy for him and Pepper would gift him the most expensive toys.

He had wormed his way into all of their hearts. They couldn’t remember a time before he hadn’t been in their home. And yet Tony didn’t feel he was anything more than a glorified friend for Peter. He could never be a father. It was better this way.

~*~

“Tony,” Peter murmured, almost a year later.

Tony turned at the questioning voice and was taken aback by how close the boy stood to him. He hid his surprise well, he thought. “Yes, Peter?” he prompted.

“What should I call you?” he started, biting his lip and tapping his foot on the floor. “I used to call my dad, dad. But I don’t want to call you that because he was my dad-“

Tony had thought about this. Spent hours turning the words inside his head and he was almost starting to believe what Steve was trying to say about him being a father but hearing this from Peter almost broke him. He would never admit that, though. “Of course not, buddy. You can keep calling me Tony.”

“Oh.” Peter deflated. “I hoped that I could call you Papa and Steve, Pops. But if that’s not alright, then.”

Tony stared at him, eyes welling up.

“I’m-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean t-to make you cry,” Peter murmured, taking a step back.

Tony gathered him into his arms and kissed his forehead. “No, no, baby. These are happy tears. You can call me whatever you want, okay? I love you so much, Peter.”

Peter wound his little arms around Tony’s torso, hanging on. “I love you too, Papa.”

That day, Tony kept Peter situated in his lap talking to him, his latest project forgotten on the bench. They made Dum-E and U fetch random things for them, giggling conspiratorially when the bots inevitably got things wrong.

Steve made his way down to find them sometime around dinner. He smiled at them from the door for a few moments before joining them. Arms wrapped around the two, he rested his chin at the top of Tony’s head.

“What are you boys up to?” he enquired, mock-stern.

“Uh-oh, Pops is here to bust us.”

Peter giggled, cuddling closer to them.

“Pops?” Steve murmured, surprised.

“Peter wants to call you Pops and me, Papa,” Tony told him, his tone reverent and eyes shining with unshed tears.

Steve caught him in a searing kiss, unable to hold back a smile. “Thank you, Peter,” he told the boy, kissing his cheek and tickling his side.

Peter giggled and held up his arms for Steve to lift him.

“Oh, you’re getting heavy, my strong boy!” Steve called out, feigning to have trouble picking Peter up.

Peter laughed and hung onto him.

Tony trailed after them, happier than he could imagine.

~*~

Tony shook awake, his breathing fast. There was a monster at their door. Tony Stark wasn’t meant to be happy. He was chasing a dream. His eyes frantically looked for the door, jostling Steve awake.

“Wha-“ Steve murmured, instantly rising. “Tony, love, what-“ But he fell quiet following Tony’s eyes to the door.

It was the tiny form of their son standing there.

Steve jumped off the bed. “Hey, sweetheart? What’s wrong?” He asked in the softest voice.

“Mom and dad were in my dream and then-then,” Peter gasped between sobs. “They exploded.”

“Oh, baby,” Steve murmured, tugging him into a hug.

“I… I’m sorry,” Peter murmured, abashed as he pulled away from Steve.

“What-“ Then he found the problem. Peter’s pyjamas were wet. “Honey, that’s alright. Nothing’s wrong. Come, let’s get you changed, okay?”

Tony got up and followed as Steve took the boy’s hand leading him to the bathroom. “Steve, babe, I’ll take care of the bath. Could you get him clothes?” he requested, lifting Peter into his arms.

The boy drowsily held close calmed by their easy demeanour.

Steve nodded and kissed Peter’s head before drifting to his room.

Tony started the bath and helped Peter climb out of his clothes. The boy kept his eyes to the floor, cheeks red. Tony picked him up again, taking his pudgy hand in his own and started to sway around as the bath filled up.

“Hey Jude,” he sang softly, dancing with Peter in his arms.

The boy looked up with big eyes, full of fear and wonderment.

Tony continued singing, smiling at him and tickling him slightly to make him giggle. Depositing him into the tub when the bath was ready, he continued to sing, helping Peter take a bath. He kissed Peter’s nose and then booped it with soap. Soon, he was making a long beard along Peter’s jaw, whispering another song. Peter calmed down and joined Tony in the process.

“Steve, look,” Tony presented their son with a Santa Claus beard when Steve finally joined them.

Steve snorted and kneeled beside Tony. “Is that really Peter?”

Peter threw water on his face. “It’s me, Pops!”

Tony and Steve laughed, sharing a look of pure adoration for their son.

Getting Peter dried up and ready for bed, Tony wouldn’t let Steve take him, making sure he held the boy close.

“Can I sleep with you tonight, Papa?” The boy asked, sleepily.

“Baby, you’re going nowhere else.”

Steve watched Tony with doting eyes as they settled in bed. He threw an arm around both his boys with Peter in the middle and held them close.

“I’m sorry, Papa and Pops,” Peter murmured softly.

“Darling, when I was your age,” Tony said, stroking his cheek. “This used to happen with me too. And Jarvis – my… Well, my family. My closest family. He’d take care of me and he’d sing to me.”

“Like you did for me?”

“Exactly like that, pumpkin.”

“You sang for Peter?” Steve whispered.

Tony smiled abashed and shrugged.

“Hey Jude,” Peter piped up, looking at Steve over his shoulder.

Steve nuzzled his nose with Peter’s, making him laugh. “Your Papa has a beautiful voice.”

“Yes, Pops.” The boy yawned widely and then started to fall asleep.

Steve kissed Tony for a long moment, putting all that he couldn’t say into it before settling to sleep himself.

It wasn’t a rare night that Tony couldn’t find it in himself to sleep, but it was the best one.

~*~

Peter loved Bucky. Everyone else liked to be goofballs around him but Bucky was always sincere and soft. He talked to Peter like he was an adult and bought him fruit – plums being his favourite – while he listened to Peter talk. Peter could talk to him about anything – any opinion that he had on politics or about his teacher that the others would think was adorable but really, Peter was being serious. He wasn’t being adorable.

So, he loved Bucky because he would nod and tell Peter his own opinion. He would also tell Peter amusing stories about his Pops that no one else knew about. They made him giggle. And what he loved most about Bucky was the soft smile he gave Peter and the loving look that he turned to Sam. Bucky was full of love and it shone through so beautifully that Peter was drawn to the man often.

“Is your birthday really tomorrow?” Peter questioned Bucky, climbing into his lap and wrapping his arms around the metal arm.

Bucky crossed the arm across Peter’s chest, holding him close. He rested his chin on top of Peter’s head, continuing to watch TV. “Yes, squirt.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I’m over a hundred years old and I don’t care about birthdays.”

“I love birthdays. I want you to feel special on yours.”

“I already feel pretty damn special here, short stuff.” Bucky smiled down at Peter in that soft way that he loved.

“I love you, Uncle Bucky,” Peter responded, kissing his cheek and then running away.

He vowed to make him feel even more special.

~*~

Peter woke up extra early and tiptoed to Sam and Bucky’s floor. He asked Jarvis to open the door as quietly as possible. He was a child, but he wasn’t stupid. He lived with superheroes with superhearing and he knew how to get around that.

He didn’t have much to give his uncle because he didn’t have money. And asking his Papa to buy a gift for him defeated the purpose altogether. So, he scrounged up what he had from his room and stole a few things from Bruce and Tony’s labs to make something.

“Wha- Petey?” Bucky murmured, finally noticing him.

His movements woke Sam up too who peered over at him. “What are you doing here, half pint? Here to sleep?”

“No,” Peter murmured, giggling. “Happy Birthday, Uncle Bucky!” he announced setting the last bit of his gift in place.

Bucky rubbed his eyes, sitting up and looked down at his metal arm. He would deny the tears that sprang to his face to the last day, but he couldn’t deny them now. Sam sat up and then fell back laughing.

“Peter, you have outdone yourself,” Sam proclaimed lifting the boy up in the air.

Bucky ran his fingers over the magnetic words on his arms that spelt out ‘Happy Birthday’. “Thank you, Peter,” he murmured, looking over at him and tugging him into a hug.

“I got you something else,” Peter told him, handing over a small car model.

“What is it?”

“It’s a hovercar,” Peter murmured. “I had this car and I took things from Uncle Bruce and Papa’s lab to set the circuit up under it.” He pushed a button on the car. It started to hover over Bucky’s hand.

Bucky and Sam shared a look.

“You really are Tony’s son aren’t you.”

Peter just smiled.

“Thank you, Peter,” Bucky repeated, holding him close. “There’s still a little time before school. Wanna stay here and talk our ears off?”

Peter only grinned, settling against Bucky.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly, I had an image of someone sticking things to Bucky's arm. And then I thought of little Peter and then this goliath jumped out. I mean it's barely a goliath. It's not even a 'gol' but hey. I needed fluff okay.


End file.
